Whispers from Athame
by CommanderDJ
Summary: Restless thoughts keep Alyssa T'Len from sleep.


Alyssa turned over for what seemed like the thousandth time. Getting roughly four hours of sleep a night since she had arrived on Thessia meant she normally felt the inexorable pull of fatigue whenever she was on her feet, but tonight it had vanished as soon as she had turned off the lights. Giving up, she opened her eyes slowly and sat up, the covers falling down to her waist. She brought up her omni-tool purely out of habit, and bright orange light enveloped her left arm as the holographic interface appeared. It contrasted sharply with the darkness of her hotel room and caused her to squint in discomfort as her eyes adjusted. Raising her other hand to wipe at her eyes, a thought entered her mind. _I wonder what Aeyna's doing._

Even amongst the weariness and restlessness she now felt, the thought of her bondmate back on Illium was enough to make her feel a little better. The thought, however, vanished into blankness almost immediately, and Alyssa let her mind wander without forming any further notions of coherence. She got out of bed, shivering as she left the warmth of the covers to stand up, her silky black nightdress doing little to hold in heat. Her omni-tool interface dissipated without her having used it and darkness swallowed her vision.

As she waited for her eyes to adjust once more to the sudden change in brightness, Alyssa suddenly felt nervous. This evoked a frown, and she looked down as if she could stave away the feeling in her gut by staring at it. _What the hell are you doing?_

The thought rang out in her own voice as she puzzled over the reasons for her own actions. The outlines of the room and the objects within were now visible, and ambient light crawled in through the gaps in the curtains that covered the hotel room's single window. Alyssa took slow, small steps, heading to the bathroom. As she entered, she leaned heavily on the sink, both palms striking the edges as she looked at her silhouette in the mirror. The face that stared back was obscured by darkness, but Alyssa recognised the shapes and curves of the crests, the cheeks, and the chin. They were hers and hers only. _I am Alyssa T'Len._

The voice in her head was a little too forceful, as if she was trying to convince herself of it rather than simply state it. One of her hands left the sink and flicked the light switch on the wall. She bowed her head and looked at the floor, eyes half-closed as the room was illuminated, her pupils contracting under the sudden deluge of photons. Once her eyes acclimatised, she was about to raise her head when she realised she didn't want to; that she was reluctant to accept what she would see as truth. _Don't be ridiculous._ She forced herself to look up, and at once regretted doing so. The asari that looked back was beautiful: her skin was palatinate blue, becoming slightly lighter at the crests. The eyes were a deep green, and they sparkled despite the fatigue that marked the asari's face. Matching green lines traced the contours of her brow and chin, flourishing into curled, elaborate markings on her cheeks like a multitude of leaved vines. Alyssa stepped back, and more of the asari came into the view. Her figure was thin, but not frail. The glossy nightdress hung from two simple straps on her shoulders, obscuring her body from her chest to her thighs.

But the asari's appearance could not rid Alyssa of the feeling that she was not looking at herself. In some sense, she wasn't. Ever since she had faked her death several months ago to escape pursuit by relentless Blue Suns mercenaries, she had been known as Biala Perelka to all but a select few, and her appearance had changed, by necessity, beyond recognition. The events came to the forefront of her mind, and flashes of memory dominated her vision. A quarian sitting in her old office. _Bela'Rahza vas Moreh. _A krogan, biotics flared, demanding the quarian's blood for her mere existence. _Gatatog Krein_. An asari crying as she revealed a terrible secret. _Aeyna T'Rea._ A human, speaking with insurmountable sincerity as he told her of his feelings for her. _Nixon Isaac Griffin. _A turian, explaining the plan to her. _Nero Tacitus._

All these people, and more flashed through her mind, each memory bringing with it a shard of pain she could not explain. She tore her gaze away from the asari in the mirror and looked down at the floor, a single tear forming and rolling down her cheek. _Who am I?_ The question left only silence in its wake.


End file.
